“Please, arrest me. I’d rather go to jail than go back to that house…”

diner on the absolute outskirts of the city limits. Across the sticky, formica table from me sat Maria, the Millers’ former live-in nanny. She was shivering uncontrollably despite wearing a heavy, insulated winter coat indoors, her eyes constantly, frantically darting over her shoulder toward the diner’s foggy windows.

Maria swallowed hard. She nervously continue reading …